


Better Than Me

by CariadWinter



Series: The Road Goes Ever On And On [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadWinter/pseuds/CariadWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin watches in secret as Bilbo sets off on his journey home.  Dwalin questions his friend's decision to let the hobbit leave without telling him the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Me

**Author's Note:**

> So... Someone To Watch Over You was supposed to be a one-shot. Nice, neat, and canon compliant. Then the Hobbit came out on DVD and apparently that particular bunny wasn't done gnawing on my brain. What comes next is the result of that. :/ I have no idea how long the series will be, but there is plenty of it floating around in my head. *shakes fist* Damn that wascally wabbit!

The two figures riding behind the Elvenking, making their way along the Celduin towards Esgaroth with the elf-host, grew smaller and darker the further out they traveled.  With every step they took, tired, worn blue eyes grew duller.  This had been for the best; their parting the way they had.  Thorin knew this in his heart, but the loss of his little burglar hurt no less.  He pulled the thick woolen blanket he had draped around him tighter about his shoulders and leaned in heavily upon the turret wall in front of him. 

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Dwalin stated from somewhere behind him.  Thorin had heard the heavy boot falls of someone approaching, but had given no mind to who it might be. 

"Ori told me that he was leaving today," was Thorin's reply.  He did not feel the need to explain himself nor would he.  Part of him suspected that Dwalin already knew though.  He had been his closest friend for many a year now. 

The warmth of the other dwarf settled in next to Thorin and he knew that Dwalin's closeness was more precaution than comfort.  Thorin's wounds were many and there was no denying how taxing his walk up to the parapets had been on him. 

"Are you really going to let him leave thinking you dead?" His friend asked, though there was no accusation in his voice.  Dwalin liked Bilbo as much as the next dwarf, but his main concern was for his king.  If a clean break from the hobbit was what Thorin needed, then it was what Thorin would get. 

Thorin's gaze, for one moment, dropped from the horizon.  "Yes," he replied and lifted his eyes once more to the ever-dwindling silhouette of his burglar.  "It's better this way.  He belongs in his Shire where he's surrounded by his own things and his own kind."  

His throat threatened to close on him and he had to clear it once, twice, before he could gather his voice again.  Thorin's shoulders slumped a little.  His whole body felt heavy now that the small bit of energy Durin had granted him was fading.  Dwalin was there, pressing in close, and wrapping one arm gently around his waist for support. 

"He would have stayed," Dwalin stated quietly, his own gaze on the horizon.  "For you." 

Thorin looked to his friend, his eyes reflecting more than just the pain of his physical injuries.  "And what would this life have afforded him?  Hobbits have no care for the lives we lead.  I showed him what a life under the mountain would be like for him."  

Dwalin's eyes softened at the bitterness in Thorin's tone.  The ones who were old enough to remember would never forget the sickness that had overtaken Thrór's mind.  It had twisted him into something selfish and greedy, had turned him into nothing more than a shade of his former self.  The return to Erebor had done much the same to Thorin.  That same glint of feverish greed had glinted brightly in their king's eyes.  He had turned on Bilbo, nearly killed him, and had then driven him from the mountain. 

"You were not yourself," Dwalin stated firmly.  "Bilbo knew that.  He forgave you, Thorin.  He would forgive you anything.  We all know this even if you do not." 

Thorin shook his head and looked back to where the sky met the land.  Bilbo and Gandalf were no longer in sight.  "I do not deserve his forgiveness," he murmured softly.  "I do not deserve anyone's forgiveness.  I promised the return of our home and a new life, but what did I give you in return… madness and death.  All of this could have been avoided.  Kíli would still have the use of both his eyes and Fíli…"  Thorin's voice broke and he shook his head.  "Fíli would not be fighting for the small bit of life he still clings to.  Our kin would not have been slaughtered defending what could have been so easily shared." 

Dwalin wanted to shake his friend, make him see sense, but he knew what Thorin was like when one of his depressions grabbed hold of him.  He would not be able to see reason in anything until the worst of it had passed.  Dwalin just hoped that this time Thorin hadn't truly lost something he would never be able to regain – himself. 

He shifted Thorin in his arms and turned them both so that he could take his friend back to his chambers.  "Come, My King, let us get you back to your bed.  You need your rest." 

Thorin didn't fight him.  There was no strength left in him to fight.  He climbed wearily into bed once there and sat quietly while Dwalin checked and redressed his wounds.  Afterwards, he settled in against his pillows and pulled his blanket up over him. 

Dwalin turned, ready to take his leave, but then stopped and looked back to Thorin.  "No matter what the cost may be, Thorin Oakenshield, you are our king and we follow you willingly and gladly.  Do not think to diminish all that we have done, all that we have accomplished, by tainting it with your guilt.  Your nephews, your _people_ , fought bravely and proudly for what is ours.  We fought for home.  We fought for Erebor."  

He took a step towards the bed and leveled a stern glare at his king.  "Bilbo fought for you too, Thorin, in his own way.  He thought by giving them the Arkenstone we'd all be able to settle things peacefully.  He didn't want this war.  He wanted to protect you.  He believed in you.  Loved you.  Think on that before you start making decisions that will not only affect you, but everyone around you for the rest of your days.  I know you, brother.  Once you've set your heart on something, you don't let it go." 

Dwalin turned without another word and left without giving Thorin a chance to respond.  Thorin watched him go, then huffed out an angry breath through his nose and closed his eyes.  He knew Dwalin was right, but at the same time, he could not let the anger he harbored towards himself dissipate.  He'd allowed greed to overshadow all he knew to be right.  He'd allowed those he cared for to shed blood needlessly.  A true king would have put the needs of his people before his own.  A true king would have recognized the folly in his actions.  A true… lover… would have never turned Bilbo away. 

No, Thorin knew what he did and did not deserve now and it was not Bilbo Baggins.  His little burglar was better off going home, back to all the comforts of the Shire where he belonged.  As for Erebor, well, he was still working out what his people needed and at the moment, he feared it was not him.


End file.
